I don't like it unless it's brand new
by imoffensive
Summary: an interpretation of the third season, not necessarily my own. someone told me it was crap but READ IT ANYWAY.


OK, so this is pretty long, but not as long as I wanted it to be. It's pretty much just trying to pick up where the gang left off, something I'm finding unbelievably hard to do. It's making me doubt my devotion. Huh. Well, anyway, I hope you like it. There'll be updates a plenty soon enough, but I just want to get some reviews and stuff for the first part before I start thinking towards the future. Be nice, though, it's my first serious stab at fan fiction.

I'm kind of on one leg here, too, because I had my sister (and fellow GA fan fiction writer) read it, and she didn't like it, but couldn't tell me why at all, except for the fact that it 'wasn't what she imagined them doing'. So...yeah...that helped a lot.

There's a lot wrong with it, and I'm not too crazy about it, but re-writing would be a drag and I'm not sure if it's just my sister talking. So I need opinions! I need critiques!

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"Meredith, have you seen Izzie's...Meredith? Are you still asleep?" George froze where he stood in Meredith's doorway, his already quiet voice squeaking when he tried to get it softer then it already was. "Mere, we have work in one hour, and Izzie is...a mess. Mere, you have to get up!" George took two steps toward her bed, yelling in her ear as she threw her weight sideways and hit him squarely in the jaw with a pillow.

"You're lying." She said, her voice croaking with sleep. She squinted as he pulled her drapes open, revealing an already busy morning in Seattle. "Damn it." She said, rolling onto her feet and lazily walking towards the bathroom. George followed her in a nervous panic, wringing his hands and looking at the ground with concern.

"Izzie is still in her room...she won't come out and I haven't heard her say anything all morning. Alex, of all people, drove her home last night, broke into our house, and put her to bed. He drank all our coffee too..." Meredith paused before the closed bathroom door, to scratch her head and stare at bewilderment at George.

"Alex drove her home?" She said this with amusement, an obvious sign that she had no memory (yet) of last night at all.

"He wouldn't let me drive!" He said, and she turned towards the door again, shaking her head as a piece of hair fell in her face. He followed her again, looking more flustered then ever.

"Do you even remember what happened last night? Anything, at all?" He said with a hint of annoyance at Meredith not taking this as seriously as he was. Before she could retort, however, they both found themselves staring at the sad, sad sight in front of them.

A sleeping Izzie lay before them, pleasantly situated in a puddle of vomit, clad only in her underwear and an oversized t-shirt. A beer bottle was clutched deftly in her left hand. Her dress had been tossed in the shower; her dress, the one she had taken so long to choose, the one she had so carefully matched all her accessories and makeup with until she had looked just right. All the jewelry was strewn about the floor as well, though, and between vomit-ridden arms peeked a mess of a face, which could no longer be seen under smeared eyeliner and tears.

She shifted in her fitful sleep as they stared at her, wide-eyed in horror at what they were to do about the remnants of the girl laying in front of them. George and Meredith turned toward each other now, both equally mortified.

"I'm not waking her up." George shot defiantly, throwing his shoulders back, trying to add a bit of oomph to his figure, or lack thereof. Meredith looked at him reproachfully.

"Well someone's got to." Meredith said sheepishly, although in all honesty she wasn't thinking much about the current predicament. George's questions had struck a particularly loud chord with her - what did happen last night? It was foggy; the only thing she knew indefinitely at this point was that she hadn't gone home after the prom - she had gone to The Emerald City Bar...and that's pretty much where indefinite starts and ends, and where infinite begins.

Meredith strained to figure out what else had happened, other then her getting drunker then she can ever remember getting (which is saying something for Meredith). Denny had died before she had gone to the Emerald City; she knew that much. Some how, though, she didn't think that's what drove her to the drink. She thought, standing there in her pajamas, George staring at her like she was crazy and Izzie finally starting to gain consciousness.

"...I slept with Derek..." Meredith suddenly said. She hadn't meant to say it. She didn't even know that she knew it. But from the moment she said it, a terrible cloud set over her; it might be true.

George stood there staring at her for a couple of seconds, before snapping. It was probably one of the worst mornings of his life. "You what!" He backed up until he hit the wall, and slid into a sitting position. "This...is the worst morning...ever."

Meredith was still standing there in shock. Izzie was waking up now, making pitiful noises and desperately grabbing to try and find covers. Her nose wriggled in disappointment when she couldn't find them.

"I slept with Derek..." She turned towards George, finally. "Did I sleep with Derek?" George stared at her for a few seconds, wishing she was kidding. She stared right back, sleep still in her eyes.

"I don't know!" He shouted, getting up and trying to run his hands through his hair. He kept forgetting he had cut it, and his hands slipped right through. He clenched his teeth and started pacing, turning back towards Meredith and opening his mouth. But before he could say anything, Izzie sat up, her eyes still closed, looking a bit worse for the wear.

"What are you guys doing in my room?" She yawned, stretching and scratching, the usual things a person does when they wake up. "And damn it do I have the worst head ache! I thought they weren't serving alcohol at the...the...the...prom..." She opened her eyes now, and Meredith and George both turned to her sympathetically as her voice faltered and broke down at the end of her sentence.

"The prom." She said grimly, wiping a bit of vomit off her chest and looking at her surroundings. Once she got a full glance around the bathroom, she looked up at the faces of George and Meredith. She tried to smile, and failed, and her face contorted into an ugly expression as she leaned back over the toilet. "Oh my god...Denny..." she sobbed, before proceeding to throw up again, missing the toilet for the majority of the time.

George glared at Meredith as she turned around again, not wanting to watch Izzie because she felt quite nauseous herself.

"It's going to be a bad day..." She sighed, and walked past George to go use one of the other bathrooms. He threw his hands up in surrender and sat down again.

"Two drunk roommates...one dead boyfriend...one cheating husband..." Izzie lifted her head up a little as George said this, and he quickly stopped. He wasn't sure how she would take things yet. Her face contracted in pain again as she shook her head at George, before leaning over again.

George looked up at the ceiling, which, coincidentally, also had barf on it. "Why me?" he said, and then as an afterthought, added, "Why us?"

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A locker slammed, and George found it hard to believe that he was finally at work. What he found harder to believe, though, was the fact that he looked forward to work for a little peace and quiet, something he had never expected of his job before in his life. Ever.

He sat down next to Meredith awkwardly, as he tied his shoes. She hadn't brought up the D-word all morning. She turned to look at him, and he could feel her eyes on him, but he refused to meet her stare. It didn't seem to stop her.

"You...you didn't know...about me and Derek. Did you?" She said finally, a very brave thing to say. She had been very open with him, though, ever since...the falling out...and the inevitable make up. He finished tying his left shoe before glancing back at her shyly.

"No, but...if you want, I never will." He didn't know why he was so nice to Meredith. He didn't know why he offered to help her instead of yelling at her and calling her a whore like he wanted to. He just did. Because she was Meredith. Because she was family.

She smiled gratefully. She knew it was hard for George, that this was hard for George. "No, it's OK. I'd rather you know it. At least someone does. I need somebody to talk to about it...that is...if it happened. I'm not sure who knows...that is...if it's real." She contemplated this lovely prospect for a second. She turned so her torso was facing George, and looked him very seriously in the eye, a slight pout on her lip.

"Now, honestly...completely honest...do you think I slept with...him?" She said, looking over her should before she said the last word, worried about who might be eavesdropping. George turned towards her as well, but kept his eyes lowered, only looking up at her after he had thought for quite a while.

"I think..." He said, pausing. He didn't want to say something...wrong, but then again, he wanted to give her an honest opinion, because he knew how confused she must feel. As much as he didn't approve, he still had to help her. He took too long, though, and Meredith strained her neck to look in his eyes.

"George..." She said, half warningly, half nervously, and in that moment he saw how helpless she really was. Before he could give her an answer, though, a sharp voice called their attention to the doorway.

"You fools better stop gossiping and start working. We've got a long day ahead of us. Just cause there was a prom last night doesn't mean we get a day off today. Please. Let's get moving, people!" George looked apologetically at Meredith as they both started walking their way to the door, a look she didn't want to seem to receive. She was thinking, apparently very deeply, and would've walked straight into the door if George hadn't minded to hold it open for her.

What George didn't know, though, was that Callie was standing feet from where the surgeons were exiting, and saw George tripping over himself for Meredith. As much as she wanted to understand, she couldn't help but let her imagination take hold of reason and throw it out the window, and soon her mind wandered to unsettling places. She set her jaw in an unattractive line, turning and walking the other way.

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"O'Malley! Hey! O'Malley! Wait up!" George turned as he saw Alex jogging to catch up with him and Meredith as they followed Bailey lifelessly. Christina was nowhere to be found. They were a small group today.

"How's Izzie?" Karev whispered, eyeing Bailey's back as she stomped through the hallways, barking orders that nobody was really listening to. She seemed extra cold today, but they all knew it was because of all the drama that hadn't taken place last night. She was just trying to get their minds off it.

George glanced equally as fearfully at bailey and muttered back, "Hung over. Depressed." Karev stopped him in the hallway, giving him a murderous glare, and George looked at him incredulously.

"You left her at home? Alone?" George tried to keep on walking, but the grip Alex had on him was nothing he could compete against.

"Ow! Yes...what were we supposed to do?" George said, rubbing his arm as they both jogged to catch up with Bailey and Meredith.

"I don't know..." Alex said sheepishly, avoiding looking at George anymore. He caught sight of Meredith's slumped shoulders and sullen expression. "What's up with her?" he said, desperately trying to get off the subject of Izzie, pulling at strings. George could tell Alex gave up too quickly, and was suspicious, but he had had enough drama in that morning to fill a lifetime, and wasn't going to go looking for anymore. He gave Karev a warning look, as if to tell him 'This never leaves these hallways', and then eyed Meredith as well.

"Last night...she..." George started, his voice quieter then it had been before, ever though they probably wouldn't of been in danger of Meredith listening to them if they had been shouting into loud speakers attached to surround sound.

"Whoa! Another one night stand, eh?" Alex said, laughing, and George looked at him as if he were a naughty kid. His laugh died out and his smile slid off his face.

"She thinks she slept with Derek." Karev cocked his head and lifted an eyebrow.

"She thinks?" George turned away from Alex and nodded, speeding up his pace as they were almost where they were going. His face was grim.

"Yeah, thinks." He defensively. Alex threw up his arms, as if to say 'Hey, you win'.

"That's cool, man." He said, smiling, although it didn't reach his eyes. A plan was forming in his head. 


End file.
